


Favorites

by Inell



Series: Quick Fic Prompts [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, College Student Jackson Whittemore, College Student Stiles, Established Relationship, Flirting, Future Fic, Jealous Jackson, M/M, Reference to Alpha Derek Hale, Romance, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Jackson helps Stiles pack up his dorm room.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragon_temeraire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/gifts).



> @dragon-temeraire said: For the prompts, how about Stackson with “But that’s my favorite shirt!” Good luck with with your irl stuff! :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, bb!

“But that’s my favorite shirt!” Stiles reaches across the bed to pull the red flannel out of Jackson’s hands before he can put it into the garbage bag. “You can’t get rid of it.”

“You’ve said that about the last seven shirts I’ve tried to throw out,” Jackson points out in that condescending voice that always makes Stiles want to slap his mouth. With his own mouth.

Asshole.

“Yeah, well, they’re all my favorites, obviously.” Stiles gives him a smug smile because ha! Prove they’re not, pretty boy. “You just don’t know good fashion, obviously.”

“You can’t even fit into that Batman shirt anymore, dumbass.” Jackson kneels on the bed and leans forward to snag the black T-shirt out of the growing pile by Stiles’ knees. “It’s a size small that you got in  _sixth grade_. There are holes in the sleeve and the hem. It needs to go away. I refuse to allow it near my clothes.”

“It holds sentimental value, asshole!” Stiles pulls the shirt out of Jackson’s hands. “You’re just jealous because you aren’t as cool and awesome as Batman.”

“Right. I’m just so jealous that I’m not an orphaned, wealthy businessman who dresses up like a bat in order to save people,” Jackson deadpans, taking the shirt when Stiles gapes at him. "Especially when I'm a wealthy werewolf who's also a handsome pre-med student who doesn't have to brood and lurk in dark alleys to get my kicks."

“Batman is not…that isn’t…” Stiles narrows his eyes and pounces, knocking Jackson onto his bed and pinning him down. “Take it back.”

“What? That Batman’s an overused cliché of manpain?” Jackson smirks up at him. “Never.”

“You don’t know anything. Hell, your favorite superhero is fucking Ant Man,” Stiles scoffs, rolling his eyes at the very  _idea_  of that being anyone’s favorite superhero.

“It’s better than broody bat boy.” Jackson bucks up and quickly rolls Stiles over, switching their positions and knocking the bag of donation clothes onto the floor. “Of course, we know how fond of broody clichés you are, don’t we?”

“Oh ho!  _Now_  we get to the real root of the problem.” Stiles wiggles under Jackson just to annoy him because he knows he’s not getting loose unless Jackson wants him to. Stupid werewolf strength. “This is about my lunch with Derek yesterday.”

“It is not,” Jackson denies quickly, narrowing his pretty blue eyes and scowling down at Stiles. “It’s about you refusing to let go of old shit that you don’t need anymore because of sentimental value. You have new stuff that’s way better and more important than that old trash.”

“Riiiiight,” Stiles drawls, totally seeing the full picture now that he’s put the Derek piece into the puzzle. Jackson’s such an idiot sometimes. But he’s Stiles’ idiot so whatever. “Way to utilize the lesson in allegory that Dr. Stevens taught us last semester. Or would it be more a use of symbolism? The shirts representing the ‘old shit’,” he does finger quotes, “I’m supposed to let go but you actually being jealous because I foolishly admitted that I had a crush on Derek when I was  _fifteen_  and coming to terms with  _hello bisexuality_.”

“You should have told me you were meeting him for lunch,” Jackson mutters, letting go of Stiles’ arms and sitting up. “He’s my Alpha, you know? I might have wanted to see him when he was in the area.”

“I know, which is why I invited him to dinner next week when I found out he’s planning to stay in San Francisco for a little while.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but I’d rather spoil that then fight with you about old T-shirts. You’re the one I want, asshole. Not him.”

“I don’t like surprises, jerkface.” Jackson smiles sheepishly, definitely understanding that he screwed up this time. Of course, he quickly smirks because God forbid he actually apologize for letting his insecurities lead him to doubt Stiles’ relationship with Derek. “Your shirts aren’t symbolism, though. They’re old crap that’s falling apart and should have been tossed years ago.”

“You aren’t donating them, Jax. They’re my favorites, and they  _will_  go with me to our new house. I’ll be hanging them in the closet, in fact, right next to your Armani.” Stiles sits up, flashing a grin Scott always called ‘shit eating’ in an annoyed way. “And you’re going to help me hang them up because I certainly can’t live somewhere that my favorite shirts aren’t welcome, can I?”

“You aren’t going to blackmail me into letting you keep those ratty old things, Stiles. I might be easy when it comes to you, but I’m not  _that_  easy.” Jackson gives him a defiant look that just makes Stiles smile.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, babe. You’re pretty damn easy.” Stiles reaches out to stroke Jackson’s thigh, keeping it light but naughty enough to get Jackson’s attention. “You could always wear the Batman shirt for me. Prove to me that it’s way too small and not at all sexy.”

“Hmph.” Jackson snorts. “I can make  _anything_  sexy, dumbass. Give me the Captain America one and I’ll prove it.”

“You totally claim Ant Man is your favorite just to piss me off, asshole.” Stiles waggles his finger at Jackson, who leans forward and nips at it. “I’m onto you. I’m going to find a way to prove that not even  _you_  have such awful taste in superheroes.”

“Says the man who idolizes the broody anti-hero.” Jackson sniffs and picks imaginary lint off his blue shirt. Looking back at Stiles, he purses his lips before asking, “So lunch yesterday was just lunch?”

“Well, I did invite Derek to join us for kinky threeway sex anytime he’s in the mood, but, otherwise, it was just lunch,” Stiles deadpans, waiting for the look of outrage. Instead, Jackson’s eyes widen and his face flushes and…wow. Okay then. That certainly gives Stiles  _a lot_  to think about. Preferably when he’s jerking off later. He clears his throat and makes the decision not to push. This time. Instead, he grins. “Just joking. I’m still alive, so you know I didn’t issue any naked time invites to our brooding Alpha.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Jackson says, running his hand over his face. “Damn it, Stiles. You really need to stop distracting me. We have to finish packing up your room by tomorrow morning before the movers get here or they won’t take everything.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. Why did you have to schedule them at seven in the morning the Monday after finals’ week? I mean, that’s just sadistic.” Stiles sticks his tongue out. “Just you wait until we can get moved in our new place. There’ll be punishment for these treacherous acts, Jackson Whittemore. Mark my words.”

“Promises, promises.” Jackson smiles smugly before sliding off the bed. “Now, give me those shirts so I can put them in the trash. None of them is worth donating because they’re truly _that bad_.”

“Nuh uh. I already told you. You love me? You have to love my shirts.” Stiles gathers the shirts up and hugs them tight, deliberately curving his lips into a pout.

“Fine,” Jackson finally growls, eyes flashing wolfy blue as Stiles smiles triumphantly. “But they  _aren’t_  going in the closet. They’ll go in your dresser.”

“Awww. It’s so cute that you really think that,” Stiles says, crawling across the bed to reach Jackson. Stiles tugs him down and kisses him thoroughly, licking into his mouth and nibbling on his lip the way that always leaves him breathless. When he pulls away, he strokes Jackson’s cheek. “The first thing we’re going to do after the movers leave tomorrow is christen the living room. You wearing nothing but that tight Captain America shirt as you bounce on my—“

“If you don’t stop right there, we’ll never get your dorm packed up,” Jackson warns, looking like he’s not entirely sure packing is that important.

Stiles sighs because he knows Jackson’s right, even if he’d never actually admit that out loud, and he has to stop fucking around so they can get done tonight. “Alright. To be continued tomorrow night in our new place.”

“To be continued is acceptable.” Jackson smiles, the real smile that isn’t a smirk or smug or condescending. The one that makes Stiles’ heart do stupid shit and his stomach feel funny. “I like that, you know? Hearing you say  _our_  house.”

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles returns his smile. “I kinda like saying it. I mean, it’s been two years of dorms and your apartment, so I think it’s time for our house.”

“Past time.” Jackson kisses him, tender and sweet, before picking up a green T-shirt and giving it a dubious look. “Definitely donate, right?”

“How dare you?” Stiles grins and reaches for it. It’s my _favorite_ , asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


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